From Home to the Road Again
by TheRandom16
Summary: From Home to the Road Again tells the story of the people who Iron Man liberated from the Ten Rings early on in the first Iron Man movie. Instead of being freed by Tony Stark, someone else takes it upon themselves to see the right things is done.


From Home to the Road Again

The sun had just finished setting over the hills, plunging the valley into twilight. For anyone up on the hills, the sun would still be setting into the red and orange pastels in the sky, truly a pleasing sight to behold. A sight that many villagers would see every night as they finished their work, their chores, or even after; they would sit on their tattered benches and rusty lawn chairs, watching the skyline and feeling each degree of the air transition from the deadly heat of day to the comforting chill of night. But tonight, there was no one on the hills to enjoy this daily pastime, aside from the armed gunman who would sit watching the valley below as well as the other sides of the hills. In fact, no one had been up on the top of the hills for several weeks since they had arrived. All they saw of the sun was when it was the hottest, that range somewhere in the sky that falls between ten a.m. and seven p.m. They now spent their nights sitting inside and not really doing anything. They could not watch any of the five televisions that were enjoyed by all of the village, despite them being privately owned. They could not go out after dark. They could not have parties or even invite guests into their homes. After the first week or so, the old family stories became too familiar. Folk tales and religious stories lost their glimmer. Fear slowly dumbed down into, not boredom, but a mixture of anger and boredom. It was this night, after the sun had set over the hills, that the villagers embraced these new emotions and decided to act upon them.

Word had gotten around that each household should send one member, preferably the oldest or the head of the family, to the center most building in the village upon the setting of the sun. Fortunately, this building was just like all the others. It used to be the town hall but because of its size it was completely over looked by the members of the Ten Rings, and they instead set up shop in the largest building in town, the local restaurant. There had been some commotion during the day from the captors, something about a metal man who had destroyed one of their main camps.

"He threw someone halfway across the compound!" one said.

"Flames shot out of his hands, and he could fly!" another said.

While many in the village believed this to be just a rumor, many noticed that during the course of the day, the number of guards on the hills had gone from something near twenty five down to only ten. The restaurant had become emptied down to only two men standing outside. So whether or not the rumor of the metal man were true, it created the ample opportunity for the villagers to meet for the first time since they became occupied.

One by one the heads of house began to shuffle in to the open hall. It was completely darkened inside, so the first ones there helped direct the newcomers to their seats. After one hour, everyone had arrived. The room was completely silent for they all knew that the usual chatter of a crowd this size would instantly get them caught. They sat in silence for a moment until suddenly there was a knock at the door. Everyone sat holding their breath, sweat dripping down from their brows both from the heat of the room and from fear.

"I would like to attend the meeting. It isn't like I have lived among you for almost seven years or something."

The sound of the man's speaking voice was ear piercing against the silence of the room. The door opened and he entered carrying a lit lighter so that he could find his way through the darkness. His Caucasian skin reflected the light from the fire and the villagers recognized him right away. Erik, only his first name being known to the villagers, was supposedly a dual citizen who came from the United States and had spent the past seven years living mostly inside his home. He came out to buy things at the market and occasionally could be seen having a drink at the restaurant, but many of the villagers could only speculate about him. Some thought he was a convict who came here to escape his crimes in America, others thought he was a professor who came to observe their culture, and still others thought he was simply a man who wanted to be alone. Whatever the reason, he now stood before them, setting the lighter on the podium at the front of the room, its light now stopped being absorbed into Erik's face and now faintly reflected off of the faces of those in the front row.

"I have heard many rumors in my time here with you. Mostly they concern myself. I will admit that my way of life does warrant some talk, but I feel that common talk should not be a base for widely accepted fact. But here you all sit before me because of another rumor. In times like this it is very convenient that you all rely so heavily on them…"

"Excuse me," the broken English came from somewhere in the center of the crowd, "but I hoped that when we were told to meet here, we would be here for something more than to be barraged by insults."

A mumble of agreement rose from the crowd and Erik felt ashamed at his waste of time with a rant. After the room quieted again Erik continued talking, being careful not to be too offensive.

"I apologize, I got carried away. My point is; that you people take rumors seriously and in a lot of cases that is a very… unusable attribute, but in the case of right now I believe it may be what we need. I believe you have all heard the rumor of the 'metal man' who escaped the Ten Ring's main camp earlier this morning?"

The crowd began to mumble again, wary of being heard outside but also wanting their questions and opinions to be known. Erik stood quiet and let the villagers get the questions out of their systems, but the room quieted as one of the villagers stood up, his elderly figure outlined faintly by the glow of the lighter.

"I believe we have all heard about him, but how does he concern us? After all, you say that rumors are not good for facts."

Erik winced at the harsh comment but was not surprised. His error of bringing to light his frustration with the villagers might destroy any chance they had of liberation.

"But I have to keep going," Erik thought, "This may be our only chance."

"Yes, I said that," Erik admitted in a regretful tone, "but I know that there is only one reason why we were able to have this meeting tonight. Something caused the Ten Rings to move men out of this village. No matter what it is, or was, we need to take advantage of this opportunity. Now whether you trust me or not, you can't deny the fact that this is the perfect opportunity to take back the village."

Erik paused to assess the mood of the crowd. When they said nothing, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

"I have learned that the Ten Rings had recently captured an American weapons manufacturer named Tony Stark. Now, I'm not sure about you but I would say that a metal man who can fly and throw men with incredible strength could only be the work of Stark. I propose that we seek him out and ask his assistance in our struggle here. I am sure after his experience with the Ten Rings he would be willing to aid us."

Pausing again, Erik waited this time for someone to say something. After what felt like several minutes, the crowd began to talk amongst themselves. Erik closed the lighter to save fuel and patiently waited for them to come forth with a universal reply. The moon had begun to rise over the valley and its white beams entered through a hole in the roof, illuminating the center of the crowd. The villagers had finished discussing and one of them stood up and walked into the light.

"We believe that it would be wise to seek out the help of Tony Stark. And we will aid you in whatever way we can." he said.

A smile crept across Erik's face. He took out a neatly tri-folded paper and stepped down from the podium to approach the man standing in the moonlight. Standing in the moonlight, Erik's features were now clearly visible. He had long dark hair that went down to the back of his neck. His face was shaded lightly with a beard and his face was stern but a weak smile was resting upon it. He reached the pocket of his long black trench coat that looked very out of place, but the villagers thought nothing of what it might be hiding and instead just dismissed it as nothing more than typical American clothing, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Erik Lehnsherr extended his arm and handed it to the villager.

"Please follow these instructions, and I promise that everything will be fine."

And he turned back towards the door and walked out into the night, the sound of the villagers now talking loudly faded slowly behind him.

After the meeting, the villagers followed the instructions, but it still didn't go quite as planned. When the villagers started to leave the meeting, they emerged to find a caravan of almost twenty vehicles making their way down into the valley. In just one short hour, a guard was now posted outside of almost every house and the villagers were now outnumbered by the population explosion of Ten Rings grunts. The villagers had little contact with each other; they spent their entire day inside the house. After the first day, the little food there was in each home was almost dissipated and they began to wonder if Erik had abandoned them and simply escaped on his own. Of course Erik had not abandoned them, but they could not know that. So there they sat for two days straight, waiting and praying. Some began to curse themselves for trusting a shady loner with their survival and safety. Others cursed their gods for abandoning them. Some prayed for their intercession. They thought about all the stories of their religions or the folklore of the region, but those didn't really cover their current situation of hostile occupation. Many of those old stories had lost their effect on people and had been dumbed down to just stories of pure entertainment from a time period that seemed too distant and outlandish to be taken seriously.

On the fourth morning, the sounds of gun fire rose up from the village. From their windows, the villagers gaped at the terrifying sight before them. Flames rose up from the main hall. Vehicles were thrown up into the air and after being held suspended for a short time, fell back down to the ground with a terrifying crash that shook the entire foundation of every home. The screams of the Ten Ring's members were just as loud as the gun fire that now could be heard so loudly, those hiding in their homes could not hear someone talking next to them. The villagers huddled close to their families and waited for the worst. No prayers were said, no final wishes, no last requests. They had accepted their fate, to wait with their loved ones as the world crumbled around them.

The chaos ended only a few minutes after it began and the village fell into a deep and dark silence. Slowly, the villagers rose up from their hiding places and left their homes, walking through the streets towards the main hall. Bodies of the Ten Ring's members were strewn all over the streets, their bodies riddled with not bullets, but shards of metal of various sizes. Many chose to go back into their homes with bodies retching from the mangled bodies. But most trudged on, making their way to the hall. They entered the plaza and found many things that struck both fear and something else into their hearts. Vehicles sat in in various positions all over. Some had been crunched completely into ball shapes and had been seemingly thrown into others. Others sat in their own charred remains, some flames still licking the cushions on their insides. But the most memorable sight of all was found resting on the edge of the fountain that beautified the entrance to the main hall. A metal suit was lain dormant on the ground, its surface was covered with charred marks and indents made from the bullets it endured. They approached it and stared in awe at the body of their savior. One by one, starting with the eldest members of the village, they walked forward and placed their hands on the suit. As more and more joined, hands were placed on the shoulders of those touching it. After a while, a voice rose from the crowd.

"On this day, we have been saved. Let this day be remembered as the day the Iron Man answered our plea and brought us back out of the darkness we were in."

Erik turned around to look down on the village one last time. He saw that a large crowd had gathered near the main hall and concluded that everything had worked out the way he intended. He glanced over at his home and counted up all the years he spent inside it, isolated, trying to not draw any attention to himself. Now they would come looking for him again, just as they did before. They would come and question everyone, searching like blood hounds after a rabbit. A bead of sweat dripped down into Erik's eye, causing him to momentarily forget his reflections to remove his helmet and wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Thank you for doing the right thing, my friend." Charles said in a quiet but confident tone.

Erik jumped, startling a bird that had perched on a near back into flight.

"Damnit Charles," Erik angrily retorted in his mind, "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I apologize Erik. I just wanted to let you know that I know what you did, and I think it was very noble." Charles voice now lost its quiet and prying tone and was replaced by one of genuine joy.

"Noble huh?" Erik harshly replied as he thought about what hell he would now go through for the next couple of months, or even years. "Don't you know what this means for me? Do you know how long it took for me to find this sanctuary?"

Charles said nothing, so Erik continued.

"Not all of us have the shelter of money like you do. You know that is the only reason you think we can co-exist, because you have never felt the pure hatred that I have. Even now, when I try to help them out, I know what is to come. They are probably already coming for me."

Tears began to well up in Erik's eyes and their coolness was almost refreshing against the heat of the day despite the pain they reflected. Erik stopped talking and went over to where he had dropped his helmet and picking it up, ended his conversation with Charles.

"No amount of kindness and good nature can ever build the bridge you want Charles. You've been trying for years, and all you've done is create just another hiding place for mutants. I am tired of hiding. I am entitled to the same life as everyone else. I deserve a wife, children, and hope."

Erik placed the helmet on his head and turned away from the village and climbed over the ridge of the hills. His destination for the most secluded place in the world, East Germany.


End file.
